“Compassion directed toward oneself is true humility.” Simone Weil
Here. I chose this peach
for you, the one whose
firm flesh yields to a softness
not yet bruised,
whose fuzz clings
to anything it touches.
Touch it. Let it cling to you
as a reminder of this day,
as a reminder in the storm
that is breaking, in the thunder
that you feel in your bones,
rain that falls hard and fast,
cold as the water you use
to wash this peach, holding
its weight in your palm
as you take and eat, as its juice
weeps from the corner of your mouth,
drips off your chin.
May your body remember
this peach even when
the earth again freezes,
when life moves underground,
when snow falls and fills
the same branch that bore this fruit.
May you be surprised
again by beauty,
giving you what you need
to hold yourself with gentleness,
strength to enter your life
as you are, not as you think
you should be.
Featured image is courtesy of Lancia E. Smith and used with her glad permission for Cultivating.
Amy Malskeit, a columnist for Cultivating Magazine, holds an MA in creative writing from Lancaster University in England. Her poetry and creative nonfiction explore questions about God, faith, and the soul, letting these refract through the small moments in her life.
She lives in the foothills outside Denver where she plants her garden and makes her home with her husband, two children and a sassy Tibetan Terrier. When she’s not reading or writing, she enjoys laughing with her family, finding ways to swim in an ocean, and nurturing ways of living creatively.
Beautiful, Amy. Thank you.
How very tender this peach in these days of thunder
Thank you for the quietness of peaches
“strength to enter your life as you are | not as you think you should be.” Words for my heart. Thank you, Amy.